


To Save a Sparkling

by ChrysCare



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:25:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 9,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrysCare/pseuds/ChrysCare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparklings are supposed to be treasured. When war breaks out, what do you do with a sparkling?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Joys of Carrying

“Prowler,” Jazz says in a sing song voice. Prowl sighs as he looks up. “I wanna listen to the sparklet.”

Prowl sets down his data-pad and opens his arms for Jazz. Jazz curls up on Prowl’s lap, audio pressed against the Praxian’s chest.

“He’s so strong sounding,” Jazz taps on Prowl’s chest, the sparklet pulses the rhythm back.

“I need to get these data-pad reports to the Enforcer station,” Prowl rubs Jazz’s sensory horns as the smaller mech purrs. 

"I can take them so you can rest,” Jazz rubs his servos on the bottom edge of Prowl’s doorwings. “So is our little spark being nice?”

“Praxian sparks are always cognizant while in carrying,” Prowl says.

“He’s going to be Praxian with doorwings?” Jazz looks up with bright optics.

“Praxians always carry Praxians,” Prowl says. 

“Oh,” Jazz frowns. “I thought we could design his frame together.”

“I am sorry,” Prowl frowns. “Every Praxian carrier is required by Praxian law to have a Praxian frame for their sparklet. A Praxian spark already knows it will have doorwings and if the frame does not, the sparklet will fade.”

“Do we get to choose the colors?” Jazz asks.

“Yes,” Prowl smiles. “We can set up an appointment tomorrow.”

“I better get those reports dropped off at Enforcer HQ so I can get back here faster for cuddles.”

Prowl smiles as Jazz grabs the box of data-pads and leaves their apartment. He rubs his chest plates. 

“I need some rust sticks,” Prowl says and walks into the Energon storage.


	2. Choosing Colors

Prowl onlines to Jazz pressing more and more against him. He looks down to see the Polyhexan trying to bury himself in his side.

“You and I cannot occupy the same space in time,” Prowl smiles lightly.

“Gonna try,” Jazz mumbles. 

“The sparklet is not amused,” Prowl says. Jazz pouts up at Prowl. “He is greatly amused.”

“You’re mean,” Jazz playfully pushes Prowl before hugging him.

“My Carrier wants to come to our appointment,” Prowl says.

“Why have I never met your creators?” Jazz traces Prowl’s enforcer symbol.

“They are not bonded and my Sire’s family came from another city-state,” Prowl traces Jazz’s helm. “According to Praxian law, my only creator is my Carrier.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t even merge with me without bonding?” Jazz asks, Prowl nods.

“I wanted our creations to have both creators.”

“More than one?" Jazz smiles. “I wanna carry the next one.”

“I can assure you my creators are not as entertaining as yours,” Prowl sits up on the berth. “My Sire is in the Elite Guard and my Carrier is the Chief of the Praxian Enforcers.”

“Sounds interesting to me,” Jazz says. “My Creators can’t tell me how their day was.”

“They are special operations,” Prowl says and pulls Jazz closer. “Just like you are training to be.”

“I might have to change my occupation for our baby sparkling,” Jazz presses his forehelm above Prowl’s spark chamber.

“You will be terribly bored,” Prowl cups Jazz’s helm.

“I can teach our sparkling what I learned in SpecOps training,” Jazz smiles.

“No, you will not,” Prowl frowns. “Our sparkling will join the Enforcers like every other first sparked mech in my family.”

“Maybe I’ll just join the Enforcers.”

“You are not Praxian,” Prowl says.

“Why did I move to Praxus?” Jazz asks as Prowl gets up to get a cube of Energon. 

“You felt the entertainment atmosphere was better than Polyhex,” Prowl says and takes a sip of his Energon. “Why you have stayed this long, I have no idea.”

“I found a mech,” Jazz jumps off the berth.

“Oh, I believe that is a good reason to stay,” Prowl finishes his cube before Jazz grabs his arm. Jazz starts pulling him out of the apartment. “Slow down, Jazz, I might purge on you.”

“And ruin my polish?” Jazz glances back at Prowl.

As they reach the medical facility, Jazz stops at the door. Prowl glances over his shoulder at his bondmate.

“What is wrong?” Prowl asks, moving back to Jazz.

“Your Carrier, you said he was Chief of the Enforcers,” Jazz frowns.

“Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Chief of the Enforcers is Barricade,” Jazz looks up at Prowl. Lava red optics shine back.

“Yes.”

“Finally you two decided to show up,” Barricade says, crimson optics shine with anger. Jazz stiffens in front of Prowl. “Oh, please. Apparently my reputation as bad cop got to him. Leave your bonded here and we’ll pick out your sparkling’s colors.”

“Hey!” Jazz runs to catch up to them. “He’s my sparkling.”

“Get your helm out of your aft and relax,” Barricade says. “You’re not a criminal are you?”

“No,” Jazz says.

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Barricade says. “You bonded to my sparkling, that makes you my sparkling.”

“That’s good right?” Jazz asks, Prowl nods. Barricade leads them through the medical center. They arrive at a vault like room.

“We are here for Prowl’s sparkling’s frame,” Barricade says.

“Right away Chief Barricade,” the Praxian smiles.

“Don’t they want to know my designation?” Jazz looks between the Praxians.

“Does he know nothing of Praxus?” Barricade glances at Prowl. “Praxians classify everything under a Praxian’s designation. Your records are classified under Prowl’s mate. Your sparkling under Prowl’s sparkling, your apartment under Prowl’s apartment, do you understand?”

“I don’t exist,” Jazz frowns. Barricade turns to the wall and puts his helm against it.

“You exist,” Prowl says. “For a Praxian to have a bondmate from another city state is a high honor. Only a few Praxians do.”

“But . . . your sire . . .”

“Prowl’s sire is not my bonded,” Barricade says, “therefore he is not recognized in Praxus, other than a sparklet entering his frame.”

“Where’s your sire from?”

“Iacon originally,” Prowl says.

“His family moved from Iacon and he was raised here,” Barricade says. “He was older than I when we met in the Praxian Academy. He graduated and left to join the Elite Guard. Decaorns later, I learned I was sparked with Prowl.”

“So he sparked ya up and left?” Jazz says.

“He comes to every upgrade,” Prowl says.

“Here is the frame,” the Praxian lays a crystal box on the counter. Jazz stares at the small frame lying on its front. Two small doorwings come out of its back, pillows hold them at an angle so they are not parallel to the frame.

“It keeps the joints from straining,” Prowl whispers as Barricade signs the datapad. “If they lay flat, it would bend the joints.”

“Oh,” Jazz rubs the back of his helm.

“Well to-be-sire, aren’t you going to take your sparkling’s frame?” Barricade asks.

“Oh,” Jazz jumps to the counter and picks up the crystal case. ~Why is it an honor for a Praxian to have a bondmate who’s not a Praxian?~

~Many Praxians have the same coding, it creates glitches if the set of coding is too close. Non-Praxians have different coding. Our sparkling will be a complete set between our coding. Normally the personality comes from the Sire, that is why most Praxians stay with other Praxians.~

~Why’d ya choose me?~ Jazz asks.

~You were everything I am not,~ Prowl says.

“Will you two stop talking through the bond,” Barricade glares at the two younger mechs as he leads them through the medical center. “It irritates me.”

“Sorry Carrier,” Prowl glances at Jazz.

“Here we are, the painting department,” Barricade says. 

“What colors were you thinking about?” Prowl asks as Jazz sets the frame on the counter.

“I think he should have some of our colors,” Jazz says.

“He should have your red and blue,” Prowl says.

“We can mix our black and white for gray.”

“I have always like silver,” Prowl says and Jazz smiles.


	3. Complications

Jazz paces the floor as they wait for the painting mechs to finish with their sparkling. 

“Will you relax!” Barricade glares at the smaller black and white mech. Prowl grabs Jazz’s servo and pulls him on his lap. 

“But . . . they’re spending a lot of time, maybe something went wrong,” Jazz looks up worried at Prowl.

“The mechs who work here consider their work art,” Barricade says. “If they don’t like it, they’ll redo it.”

“Will that cost extra?” Jazz asks. “I don’t make a lot of credits—“

“The first sparkling painting is free,” Barricade sighs. “These mechs get paid by the city-state to do this.”

“Oh,” Jazz stops fidgeting in Prowl’s arms. 

“You do not need to worry about the cost of anything,” Prowl whispers in Jazz’s audio. “I need to get some Energon. Our little sparklet is draining me.”

Prowl stands when Jazz jumps off his lap. The Praxian sways, he reaches for the chair but collapses to the floor. Barricade jumps out of his chair.

“Medics!” Barricade yells, Jazz trembles where he stands. 

“Prowl,” Jazz whimpers. Medics rush into the room and load Prowl on a berth. They wheel him out of the room. Barricade follows the medics and Jazz starts to follow.

“You need to stay with the sparkling frame,” Barricade says, one medic starts to say something and Barricade glares at the mech. Jazz stands in the hallway as they take Prowl away. He shakes and falls to the floor. 

 

Jazz sighs as he sits in the waiting area of the painting department. A gold and silver Praxian walks up to him. 

“Are you Prowl’s mate?” the Praxian asks.

“Yes,” Jazz says and stands up.

“Someone should have already come after you,” the Praxian says. “Prowl went into separation early. They are about to separate the sparklet.”

“What do you mean? I’ve been sittin’ here for the past Joor waiting for my sparkling’s frame.”

“Will you follow me,” the Praxian says and leads Jazz through the winding halls of the Praxian medical center.


	4. Prowl or The Sparkling

Jazz yells at the medical staff mech to move faster and they reach Prowl’s room at a run. 

“What is he doing here!” Barricade yells and tries to push Jazz out of the room.

“Let him in!” Prowl screams.

“He’s Polyhexan!”

“He’s my mate!” Prowl counters and throws one of the medical staff’s data-pads at his carrier.

“They always choose wrong,” Barricade says.

“Choose?” Jazz glances around the room.

“A Praxian bonded to an outsider nearly always loses their first sparkling. I did and I will not lose my creation.”

“Prowl?” Jazz shakes where he stands at the bottom of Prowl’s berth.

~Jazz, choose the sparklet,~ Prowl pleads and sends Jazz all the reasons to. The amount of reasons makes his processor spin.

“We need an answer,” the Praxian medic says.

“I . . .” Jazz shakes.

~Sparklet,~ Prowl says.

“He chooses Prowl,” Barricade says.

“Uh . . .” Jazz starts hyperventilating as he grips the bottom of Prowl’s berth.

~Sparklet,~ Prowl pleads, Jazz locks optics with Prowl, lava red optics shimmer. ~If the sparklet fades, I will follow him.~

“The sparklet!” Jazz yells. Barricade grumbles and storms out of the room. The medical staff gently push Jazz out in the hallway as they work.

“I can’t believe you,” Barricade says and pushes Jazz against the wall. “You and all the fragging Polyhexans choose the sparklet because the sparklet is Praxian. All you mech’s ever think about is the sparklet.”

“Prowl-“

“Prowl doesn’t know the consequences of it,” Barricade says. Jazz falls to the floor trembling. “Polyhexans take the sparkling to Kaon and sell them for millions of credits. I can’t believe Prowl fell for you.”

“I . . .” Jazz’s armor chatters against the wall and Barricade glances at the mech for the first time since he came in to the separation ward. Barricade kneels down, Jazz flinches away from his touch but he pulls Jazz into a hug.

“I should not have acted that way,” Barricade sighs. “If my bonded didn’t leave me then I would have kept the sparklet. Jazz, I didn’t mean to stereotype you. I just didn’t want my only sparkling hurt by you. You mean more to him than anything else.”

“Prowler told me if the sparklet faded then he would follow,” Jazz holds onto Barricade as he shakes. 

“Prowl is very weak if you wish to say good-bye,” the medic assistant says. “The sparkling is fine and is recharging.”

“What was your sparklet’s designation?” Jazz asks as they stand, vents trying to keep up with cooling him down.

“Smokescreen,” Barricade says. “I was going to name him Smokescreen.”

Jazz picks up the small sparkling and carries him over to Prowl’s berth. Prowl’s normal black and white is now a light gray. Barely lit red optics move toward Jazz’s direction.

“Hey Prowler,” Jazz smiles. “Ya see this little guy?”

Prowl tries to smile as his gaze falls on the sparkling.

“How about the designation Smokescreen,” Jazz asks and looks up at Barricade. Barricade smiles lightly as Prowl hums in agreement.

~I like it,~ Prowl sighs. ~So weak. I’m going to rest now.~

“Prowl, I love you sweetspark,” Barricade presses his helm against Prowl’s, chevron meets chevron.

~Look after him for me,~ Prowl says. 

~I will,~ Jazz forces a smile.

“I’ll let you two to yourselves,” Barricade walks out the room. Jazz immediately climbs on the berth and nestles the sparkling between them. 

~You don’t need to-~

~Want to,~ Jazz presses his helm into Prowl’s. 

~We cannot occupy the . . . same space . . . and . . . time.~

~Gonna try,~ Jazz’s vents hitch.

~I hear your spark humming,~ Prowl coughs. Jazz glances to see the spark monitor slow, the Energon drip catches his attention. ~To make the transition easier.~

~Prowler, I don’t want ya to go.~

~Jazz, will you sing to me?~

Jazz starts singing softly, Prowl’s optics slowly offline, systems fall quiet, venting slows and the spark monitor shows a barely visible spark pulse. 

A small squeal and several chirps come from the recharging sparkling. The Spark pulse on the monitor jumps. The cycle’s events finally catch up to Jazz and he falls into recharge curled around Smokescreen and Prowl.

 

Jazz laughs as he chases Smokescreen around the apartment. The sound of Smokescreen’s giggles fill the air.

“Time for Energon!” Prowl yells from the small kitchenette, where they make Energon confections. Jazz grabs Prowl around the waist—

A loud resounding crack resonates through the room and pain shoots through his sensory net. Jazz onlines gasping and glances around. He sits up on the floor of the medical center and glances around.

“Smokescreen?” Jazz scrambles around the room.

“He’s perfectly fine up here,” Jazz freezes at the voice. Slowly turning around, spark racing, his optics meet lava red. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Prowl!” Jazz cries and pounces on the berth.

“Careful! Smokescreen,” Prowl laughs as Jazz hugs him tightly.

“Never gonna let you go,” Jazz mumbles in Prowl’s neck.

“Not even to play with this bundle of energy?” Prowl asks, Smokescreen waves his arms in the air frantically.

“Maybe,” Jazz smiles. “Does Barricade know?”

Prowl shakes his helm.

“The nurses do not even know,” Prowl tips his helm to the spark monitor which is dark. “I wanted some peace and quiet with my mate and new sparkling.”

“You’re mean,” Jazz smiles and hugs Prowl while tickling Smokescreen. The sparkling giggles loud enough that the door opens partially and crimson optics glance in. Prowl meet’s Barricade’s optics and gives his Carrier a small smile. Barricade nods and closes the door. 

“I like what you were dreaming about before you decided to recharge on the floor,” Prowl smiles.

“Maybe I’ll chase you around the table,” Jazz pokes Prowl in the chestplates.

“I will be on berth rest when we go home.”


	5. Happy Homecoming

Prowl sits up on the edge of the berth. The medical staff hasn’t come in yet. Jazz took Smokescreen out of the room to register him as a citizen of Praxus with Barricade. The door opens and a berth rolls in, the gray colored mech glances up and jumps. He looks at the room number and the patient designation. 

“You are Prowl right?” the mech says.

“That is correct,” Prowl says, small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The mech from the morgue stares at Prowl.

“You are supposed to be deactivated,” the mech says.

“Well, Primus did not want me,” Prowl smiles. 

“I’ll just go and get the release staff,” the mech points to the doorway and pulls the berth with him. 

~What’s so amusing?~ Jazz asks.

~The mech from the morgue came up to take me away,~ Prowl says.

~Tell him he can’t have you.~

~He’s already leaving,~ Prowl laughs as the medical staff run into the room. They stand in the doorway looking at him. “May I be released?”

“Uh . . .” the mech in front says. “Do you feel alright?”

“Yes,” Prowl says. ~Jazz, you may need to come and break me out.~

~On my way,~ Jazz says.

A red mech pushes through the group of medical staff. He stands there staring at Prowl before running over and pulling Prowl into a hug. 

“Squishing!” Prowl squeaks. 

“When they told me you deactivated . . . I couldn’t believe it,” the mech says. “You don’t know how much you scared me. I didn’t even know you were carrying.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you Sire,” Prowl hugs the large red mech. 

“I hope the mech didn’t leave you.”

“No, we bonded before anything got out of servo,” Prowl says and glances at the door when Jazz appears. “Sire, this is my bondmate Jazz and our sparkling Smokescreen.”

The red mech turns around, blue optics meet blue visor. 

“Jazz?” Prowl’s sire says.

“Ironhide?” Jazz looks at Prowl then back to Ironhide.

“You know each other?” Prowl asks standing up with Ironhide’s help.

“We work for the same group of people,” Jazz says. 

“I thought you were in special ops training?” Prowl frowns. 

“Uh . . . we should catch up at home,” Jazz glances at Ironhide. Barricade sees Ironhide helping Prowl and leaves the medical center without saying bye. 

“Where did Carrier go?” Prowl asks looking around.

“Don’t know, he was right behind me,” Jazz glances around. :Barricade, where’d you go?:

:I’ll come by later this cycle,: Barricade says. :I have some paperwork to take care of.:

Prowl types in the code for their apartment door as Ironhide holds him up. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I called my creators and let them in our apartment,” Jazz says as the door opens and the lights come on. A banner streams across the ceiling: Welcome home Prowl and Smokescreen. Prowl looks shocked at the presents and the Energon confections.

“What is all of this?” Prowl asks. 

“In Polyhex, the carrier is showered with gifts after their sparkling comes,” Jazz grabs a plate of Energon treats. “I made these myself.”

Prowl frowns and Jazz’s shoulders drop.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jazz asks.

“I . . . no, I just wanted to relax in a warm bath,” Prowl says. 

“It’s waiting for you,” Getaway says. Prowl walks into the washracks as Getaway spots Smokescreen curled up in Jazz’s arms. “Is this the little cutie?”

“Yep, baby Smokescreen,” Jazz says nudging the recharging sparkling online. Smokescreen’s blue optics brighten and glance around. His doorwings clatter against Jazz’s arms as he takes in his surroundings. Getaway tickles Smokescreen under the chin and the sparkling chirps unhappily and pushes away the servo. “I don’t think he likes that.”

“You never liked it any,” Skids says. 

“I was a smart sparkling,” Jazz tips his helm up.

“Right, like the time you got your helm stuck in the Energon treat canister,” Getaway says. 

“Carrier!” Jazz gasps. “I told you never to bring that up.”

“Prowl did a lot worse,” Ironhide laughs. “We had a sweetened Energon canister up on a cabinet. Prowl decided he would get it one morning and we heard a loud crash. When we found him, he was squirming and squirming. He had is aft stuck in the canister.”

As the cycle goes by, everyone in the main room has held Smokescreen and the sparkling now lies in his small raised portable berth in the main room. Ironhide talks with Getaway and Skids about their favorite memories of their creations as sparklings. Jazz slips out of the main room and into the washracks. Prowl lies in the tub with a data-pad hanging in his servos, his optics are off and his systems are quiet. Jazz pokes Prowl’s side of the bond to not startle him. 

~Get tired?~ Prowl asks, not bothering on turning on his optics. Jazz slides into the tub over Prowl. ~Or are you just checking on me?~

“Smokescreen’s in recharge and our creators are reminiscing,” Jazz slides his arms around Prowl’s waist. “I really thought you were going to the Well.”

“I heard something that I wanted to hear more of,” Prowl smiles and nuzzles his helm into Jazz’s neck. “Besides, we wanted more than one sparkling and I did not want to share you.”

“That’s a good reason to come back,” Jazz smiles, hearing the locks of a chest plate unlock. “What are you doing?”

“My spark is still weak,” Prowl says hiding his smile in Jazz’s neck. “I think I need a jump start.”


	6. Questions Answered

Everyone looks up when Prowl and Jazz walk out of the washracks holding servos and smiling. They sit on the couch, Jazz settles himself on Prowl’s lap. The chime on the door sounds and Prowl sends the code to unlock. Barricade steps in and sees Ironhide still here. Prowl notices Ironhide’s surprised look and glances over at Barricade. 

“Did you two have a fight or something?” Prowl glances back at Ironhide. 

“No,” Ironhide stands and walks to Barricade. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has,” Barricade says as Ironhide hugs him. 

Smokescreen’s giggles fill the air and Jazz jumps off Prowl’s lap to retrieve the sparkling. He settles back on Prowl’s lap with the happy sparkling. 

“Come on over here Barricade, you’re the only one who hasn’t held him,” Jazz says. Barricade walks over with Ironhide following closely behind. Jazz holds out Smokescreen for Barricade and the Praxian holds the sparkling close to his chest. Ironhide whispers in Barricade’s audio as he trails a black finger down the sparkling’s helm. Barricade glances at Ironhide before looking back at the sparkling. 

“So how do you and Jazz know each other?” Prowl asks. Getaway and Skids look around the room at each mech present. “What? Is it top secret?”

“It kinda is,” Jazz says. “There’s some stuff happening in Kaon and Tarn that has the Senate squirming in their seats. We work for a group that watches them. They’re called the Autobots.”

“It’s a division of the Elite Guard,” Ironhide states. 

“That’s quite enough information,” Getaway says. 

“We don’t need outsiders knowing how our organization works,” Skids says.

“Prowl’s not really an outsider,” Jazz says. “He is bonded to me.”

“But Barricade is,” Ironhide sighs.

“Hey, I won’t tell anyone,” Barricade says. “I’ve kept lots of secrets for lots of mechs, turned a blind optic once or twice. I could ruin a couple Senator’s reputation with the secrets I’ve kept.”

“Should we trust him?” Getaway looks to Skids.

“If he does go and help the enemy we could use leverage,” Skids whispers, looking at Prowl.

“Very well,” Getaway says. “Our group is called the Autobots. We are an anti-terrorist group. The mech’s we are looking at are violating the caste system—“

“Why does Praxus care about Cybertron’s caste system, we have our own and it's a Pit of-a-lot better than the rest,” Barricade says.

“What do you do with mechs who don’t want to comply?”

“We exile them,” Barricade says.

“We cannot exile half of Kaon,” Skids says. 

“So what do you do?”

“We terminate them,” Ironhide says, Barricade’s vents hitch. Prowl flinches under Jazz and he looks up worried at Prowl. 

“You deactivate mechs who have a different opinion than you?” Barricade says. “What kind of mechs are these Autobots?”

“The kind that keeps the population safe from a riot,” Getaway says. 

 

As the star sets over the horizon, Getaway and Skids leave and Barricade and Ironhide start to leave. 

“Prowl,” Ironhide says before stepping out the door. “I just want to keep you safe.”

“I know,” Prowl smiles and hugs his Sire. 

“Don’t spoil that sparkling of yours too much,” Ironhide laughs.

“That will be Jazz’s doing,” Prowl waves as his creators leave. He closes the door and looks into the main room of the apartment. Jazz lies in recharge on the couch with Smokescreen’s portable berth pulled right beside it. “Jazz, are you going to recharge on the couch or go back to berth?”

“Berth,” Jazz jumps online and grabs Smokescreen’s berth. Prowl sighs and shakes his helm as he follows Jazz. 

“Jazz,” Prowl says quietly as he lies beside Jazz. 

“Yeah.”

“Are these rebels very dangerous?”

“They can fight,” Jazz looks down at Prowl.

“Could they invade a city state?”

“I suppose they could.”

“Are the Autobot’s numbers large?”

“There’s a substantial amount of mechs,” Jazz trails his finger over the side of Prowl’s helm. 

“Why did you join?”

“My creators were Autobots before I was created,” Jazz says. “They had a Special ops opening and I was the best they had.”

“Do you fight often?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Jazz asks, Prowl moves away from cuddling with Jazz. The hurt look on his faceplates causes Jazz to frown.

“No, I was hoping you would say no,” Prowl frowns. “I want you around for our sparkling.”

“I don’t get hurt often,” Jazz says. “I do fight.”

“Other than the bond, how would I know that you got hurt?” Prowl asks.

“Well if it’s serious a mech will come here and tell you,” Jazz says. “His designation is Mirage.”

“Will he allow me to see you?” Prowl moves back to Jazz’s side. 

“Ratchet most certainly will.”

“Who is that?”

“The chief medical officer,” Jazz says. “He’s kinda nice once you get to know him.”

“Will a war break out?” Prowl asks before he slowly falls into recharge. Jazz lays there thinking about that answer. From the intel he has gathered, there will be one in the near future if they can’t stop the rebels. Jazz glances over at Smokescreen’s berth. 

“I hope not,” Jazz says.


	7. Learning

Jazz sits on the berth, Smokescreen scoots around the berth on his front. Small doorwings flapping as he moves. The holoscreen projector on Jazz’s lap catches the sparkling’s attention and he makes his way over to his Sire. Jazz’s places his bet on the red panels of the wheel and watches the mech in charge of the game spin the wheel. It lands on a red panel and Jazz’s winnings double. Smokescreen sits up, leaning more on his Sire’s shoulder than sitting and pokes the holoscreen.

“Smokescreen!” Jazz says and glances at the sparkling. “This is not a sparkling’s game. We’re gambling with real credits here.”

Smokescreen giggles and points to the screen, Jazz watches as the credits in his account rise. Smokescreen pokes the screen again and Jazz picks up the sparkling and sets him on Prowl’s side of the berth. Smokescreen shimmies back over and leans against Jazz’s shoulder as the credits rise again. 

“Stop it,” Jazz says as Smokescreen pokes the screen again. “You’re gonna make me lose all our credits.”

“No,” Smokescreen says and claps when the credits rise. 

“How the frag are you doing that?” Jazz asks. “Three out of three.”

“Frag!” Smokescreen smiles. 

“Oh, no, don’t repeat that word,” Jazz says.

“Frag, frag, frag!” Smokescreen bounces in place with a smile on his face. 

“Jazz, I have to go down to the Enforcers HQ to get some paperwork, can you watch Smokescreen?” Prowl asks as he nears the berthroom door.

“Frag, frag fra-“ Smokescreen says and looks with bright optics when Jazz sticks his finger in the sparkling’s mouth as Prowl walks into the berthroom.

“Jazz, why do you have your finger in Smokescreen’s mouth?” Prowl asks.

“Must be hungry,” Jazz says. “I’ll get his Energon in a klik.”

Prowl nods and leaves. Jazz pulls out his finger and looks at the sparkling. 

“Frag, frag, frag!” Smokescreen smiles. 

“No more,” Jazz wags his finger in front of Smokescreen’s face. Smokescreen’s optics follow the finger up and down, up, down, up. He opens his mouth and chomps down.

“Owe!” Jazz yells. “No Energon treats for you if you continue saying that word and biting.”

Smokescreen pouts and looks up at his Sire. 

“Treat,” Smokescreen says. 

“Only if you be good,” Jazz turns back to his game. Smokescreen pokes the screen and doubles the credits again. “Okay enough for now.”

Jazz pulls out of the game, taking his million credits. 

“Come on my little gambler,” Jazz says and picks up Smokescreen. “Let’s get some Energon in you.”

“Ene’ron,” Smokescreen squeals and Jazz smiles. “Ene’ron, Ene’ron!”

Jazz’s comm. pings with Ironhide’s signal.

:Jazz, we need you on base,: Ironhide says.

:I’m watching Smokescreen,: Jazz replies.

:Have Barricade watch him.:

:Barricade, can you watch Smokescreen for a while?: Jazz asks opening a comm. to Barricade.

:No,: Barricade replies. :We are staking out a place for a crime lord.:

:Oh,: Jazz says. :I’ll see about my creators then.: “Smokescreen, Sire has to go someplace. Can you stay here by yourself?”

Smokescreen looks up at his Sire as he holds the plate of semi-sweet Energon treats. The sparkling nods and continues munching on the Energon treats. 

“Okay, don’t do anything that will hurt you,” Jazz says and leaves.


	8. A Carrier's Worst Fear

Prowl opens the door to the apartment and walks in with a box of data-pads.

“Jazz, can you come help me?” Prowl asks as he sets the box on the table and walks back to get the other two boxes. “Jazz?”

Prowl sets the two boxes on the floor and looks in the berthroom for Jazz. He walks around the apartment and finds nothing. He walks into the kitchenette and steps in something gooey. He looks down to see Energon covering the floor. He looks around the counter to see a small doorwinged figure covered in Energon lying flat on the floor. The sparkling’s arms are laid out wide. 

“Smokescreen!” Prowl screams and kneels down beside the sparkling. He pulls out a cleaning rag and starts wiping the Energon off the small frame.

“Frag!” Smokescreen yells when Prowl pulls the sparkling up and the doorwings scrape the floor. 

“Smokescreen,” Prowl sits on the floor, doorwings shooting up high. “Where did you learn that word?”

“Sire,” Smokescreen smiles. “Sire teach me lots.”

“What all did Sire teach you?”

“Sire’s little gambler,” Smokescreen smiles. 

“Did Sire leave you here alone?” Prowl asks, Smokescreen nods and holds up his arms. Prowl picks up the sparkling and cradles him close. “Let us go to my Carrier’s home, your grandcarrier.”

Smokescreen holds onto his Carrier’s arm as Prowl walks out of the apartment.


	9. Off to GrandCarrier's house

Prowl pulls out Smokescreen’s blanket and wraps him up before stepping out into the cool dark orn. Every once in a while, one of the two moons would completely block the star’s light from Praxus. This would become the Dark Orn.

‘Fitting that after I have a sparkling and learn Jazz is in a mafia that there is a Dark Orn,’ Prowl thinks. ‘Next thing I know, the rebels will destroy Praxus.’

Prowl walks down the streets of Middle Praxus, not the rich royals yet not the poor outsiders. He glances at the underground transport before walking past it. Even though it would be faster to go that way, outsiders enjoyed knocking out the lights and scaring other mechs. Some even commit crimes during Dark Orn. Looking down as he checks on Smokescreen in his arms, he accidentally makes the wrong turn down the street leading to Lower Praxus. 

“Hey, pretty little Praxian, what are you doing down this street?” a mech in the shadows asks. Prowl jumps, arms tightening around Smokescreen as he glances around. He starts to back away when he feels a large mech behind him. “Going somewhere?”

“I am an Enforcer,” Prowl states as he uses his doorwings to find an escape.

“Ooh, big bad scary Enforcer,” the mech shakes. “I’m so scared. Hand over that sparkling and I’ll let you go.”

“No,” Prowl says.

“Then I’ll just have to take it,” the mech moves to take the sparkling but screams and grabs his helm. Prowl feels the large mech do the same. A large mech with a red visor steps out of the shadows and Prowl backs away.

“Soundwave: will not harm,” the mech holds out his servo, palm pointing to Prowl. “Destination: Carrier’s house. Soundwave: will escort.”

“How do you know where I am going?” Prowl asks.

“Soundwave: telepath,” the mech says.

“I do not require an escort, thank you for offering.”

“Soundwave: will escort anyway.”

“Okay,” Prowl starts walking after the mech.

“Sparkling: yours?”

“Yes,” Prowl looks down at Smokescreen. 

“Soundwave: has sparklings too,” Soundwave says and a cybercat jumps in front of Prowl. Prowl steps back as the cybercat growls. “Ravage: desist. Prowl: friend.”

Ravage huffs and turns around, sulking off in front of Soundwave. 

“Can we pweaze see sparkwing?” small servos tap on Prowl’s legs and he looks down to see two mechlings.

“Rumble, Frenzy: come here,” Soundwave says.

“They can see him,” Prowl kneels down and shows the two sparklings Smokescreen.

“He’s so cute,” one of the mechlings says, the red one.


	10. GrandCarrier's House

“This is it, thank you Soundwave,” Prowl looks at the mech. 

“Query: why travel alone?” Soundwave asks.

“My mate decided to leave our sparkling alone and I left,” Prowl looks down at Smokescreen.

:Soundwave: wishes you to have this,” Soundwave says and hands Prowl a data-pad. Prowl onlines it to see comm. frequencies.

“Yours?” Prowl looks up and Soundwave nods. “Thank you, but I do not-“

“Please,” Soundwave says. 

“Okay,” Prowl nods and unlocks the door to Barricade’s house. He steps in and glances back at Soundwave. “Thank you for helping me.”

Soundwave nods and walks away with his sparklings following him. Prowl closes the door and sets Smokescreen on the floor. He walks into the kitchenette and fixes some sparkling grade Energon. When he steps back into the main room, Barricade walks into the house. He looks at Prowl before his gaze falls on Smokescreen. 

“Did you have a fight with Jazz?” Barricade asks. Prowl’s doorwings tremble and he looks at the floor.

“No, he . . .” Prowl starts shaking. “I think he left.”

“Why would he leave?” Barricade asks helping Prowl to the chair. 

“He was not home and he left Smokescreen alone,” Prowl hiccups. “His side of the bond is quiet and he will not answer his comms.. He left, he does not like me anymore.”

“Shh,” Barricade rubs Prowl’s back. “Jazz didn’t leave you. He asked if I could watch Smokescreen.”

“Did he say what he was doing?” Prowl asks looking up at his Carrier.

“He . . . he had to go see his creators,” Barricade says. “One of them got hurt. I’m sure he would have told you if he knew you weren’t busy. Ironhide called and said he would be awhile.”

“Oh,” Prowl regains control, a small hiccup passes through his vents every so often. “Can we stay here until the Dark Orn is over?”

“Of course you can,” Barricade says. “I’ll get Smokescreen’s berth set up in your old room and we can play a game.”

“Thank you Carrier,” Prowl picks up Smokescreen and starts feeding him. Smokescreen trills when he sees Barricade.


	11. Gone Too Long

Prowl onlines in his old berthroom, frowning he looks around and sees Smokescreen’s berth against the side of his berth. 

:Jazz?: Prowl asks over the comm.. :Jazz please, I’m sorry if I did anything wrong.:

“Prowl, I’m leaving for my shift,” Barricade says, Prowl walks out into the main part of the house. He watches Barricade leave as he gets his Energon. Smokescreen’s recharge cycle allowed him enough time in the beginning of the orn to relax for the start of the orn. A knock comes at the door and Prowl answers it. Soundwave stands there. 

“May I help you?” Prowl asks.

“Inquiry: Prowl and sparkling join Soundwave and sparklings for the Fair?” Soundwave asks.

“He’s not online yet,” Prowl frowns. “Why did you come back?”

“Soundwave: knows how Prowl feels,” Soundwave says. 

“Your mate left you,” Prowl frowns. Soundwave nods. “I am sorry.”

“Event: a long time ago,” Soundwave says, Rumble and Frenzy run around his legs and into Barricade’s house. “Rumble, Frenzy.”

“They are quite alright, do you want to come in?” Prowl asks moving out of the way. “Would you like some Energon?”

Soundwave shakes his helm and sits on the chair. Prowl looks over his shoulder at his berthroom before walking into it. He looks down at Smokescreen as the sparkling onlines. Blue optics brighten slowly and Smokescreen smiles up at his Carrier. He trills when Prowl picks him up and carries him into the main room. 

“We can go now,” Prowl says and Rumble and Frenzy run up to Prowl and try to see the sparkling. Smokescreen looks down at the other sparklings and giggles.


	12. Moving On

Prowl smiles as Rumble and Frenzy run through the fair. Smokescreen coos in his arms as he follows Soundwave to one of the booths.

“No one can ever win at these,” Prowl reaches for Soundwave’s arm. “Don’t waste your credits.”

“Query: which one?” Soundwave asks.

“If you must, the turbofox,” Prowl smiles a little and watches Soundwave play for the turbofox. The game attendant hands the large turbofox to Soundwave. Smokescreen reaches out for it. “I don’t think you can carry it.”

The sparkling huffs and glares at Prowl.

“Yep, your sire’s attitude,” Prowl frowns. “I think I’ll go ahead and go back home.”

“Query: escort?”

“I don’t need one, it’s a light cycle,” Prowl smiles and hugs Soundwave. He takes the turbofox and walks off.

 

One decaorn follows the next and Prowl frowns at Smokescreen playing with his old toys. 

“Jazz should be back, it’s been a decaorn,” Prowl sighs. “Maybe he really did leave me. He could be out with some other mech. I wouldn’t even know if the bond broke. I can’t feel it.”

“Prowl, Jazz loves you.” Barricade sits on the table and takes the white servos in his.

“Does he, I thought if you loved someone, you were around them. My spark aches for him.”

“I know,” Barricade rubs his thumb over Prowl’s servo. “When Midnight left . . . I couldn’t bear with it. I turned to over working. Focus on Smokescreen. Something may have come up.”

“He would have said something!”

“Why don’t you relax here, I’ll take Smokescreen, it is filing orn,” Barricade rubs Prowl’s doorwings.

“Okay,” Prowl sighs. Barricade carries Smokescreen out of the house. He glances at the stuffed turbofox on the floor. :Soundwave? Are you busy?:

:Query: Prowl lonely?:

:Yes,: Prowl sighs.

:ETA: Five breems,: Soundwave says.

 

A knock comes at the door, Prowl smiles up at the blue and white mech. Prowl leads Soundwave into the main room.

“Do you want to play a game? I think we only have strategy games though.”

“Choice: Prowl’s,” Soundwave says when he takes his seat.

 

Barricade walks into the house to see the blue and white mech holding Prowl around the waist. Prowl is curled up in front of him on the couch. 

“Prowl, what have you done?” Barricade frowns and sets Smokescreen in Prowl’s room.

 

Another decaorn passes and Prowl calls Soundwave again. Soundwave walks in and Prowl offers him the couch.

“Query: Prowl enjoy movies?” Soundwave asks.

“Some, mostly crime, mystery, movies like that,” Prowl says and takes the movie drive from Soundwave. He looks over it. “How did you get this? It’s my favorite. It only plays certain times and I miss it most of the time.”

“Movie drive: gift,” Soundwave says as Prowl plugs it into the display. Soundwave pats the couch beside him and Prowl sits beside the mech.

As the movie goes on Soundwave and Prowl shift until Soundwave lies on the couch with Prowl on top.

“You know, Jazz and I never watched movies together.”

“Jazz: missing opportunity,” Soundwave trails his fingers over Prowl’s helm. 

“He claims he works for some group called the Autobots. I’ve never heard of them. They claim to be fighting rebels. They are no better than the caste system in the other city-states. Praxus’ isn’t that oppressing, a mech could gain levels with hard work.”

“Query: Prowl happy in Praxus?”

“I love Praxus,” Prowl looks up at the masked mech. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

 

Barricade watches as Prowl gives Smokescreen his Energon cube. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Barricade frowns.

“Smokescreen is capable of drinking Energon from his cube,” Prowl frowns. 

“I meant with Soundwave.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you . . .” Barricade motions at Prowl’s frame. “. . . with Soundwave.” 

“Carrier! I’m a bonded Praxian, of course not,” Prowl glares at his Carrier. “Soundwave is just a friend.”

“Are you sure, you said that about Jazz, then you bonded.”

“Carrier, Jazz is my bonded, my spark wants him not Soundwave.”

“Right, the turbofox, the movie drive, friends don’t shower you with gifts. Do you know anything about him? He could be a serial abductist.”

“I’ve checked his file, it’s clean,” Prowl smiles. “And he’s gone through a bonded leaving him.”

“All the more reason he’s preying on you.”

“When did you get so cynical?”

“I’ve always been this way, ask your sire.”

“Did sire ever leave?”

“Your sire only came to do one thing and then left. When I told him about you, he stopped coming. We hadn’t shared until your welcome back to the living.”

“Oh,” Prowl frowns. “Will Jazz do that?”

“I’ll beat the slag out of him,” Barricade smirks. “If Soundwave tries anything serve him his—“

“Carrier, he won’t do anything,” Prowl picks up Smokescreen who nearly falls over in recharge. “He’s a friend and he knows I still care about Jazz.”

“Do you even know where he comes from?” 

“Good recharge cycle, Carrier,” Prowl closes his berthroom door.


	13. Missing

Jazz strolls through the door to Prowl and his apartment to find the place cold and empty of life. 

“Prowler?” Jazz frowns. :Ironhide, do you know where Prowl would be?:

:Have you checked Barricade’s?: Ironhide asks.

Jazz turns around and heads to Barricade’s. He walks down the street and approaches the house. Jazz knocks on the door, Barricade glares at him.

“You better have a good explanation,” Barricade walks into the main room. “Prowl’s in his room, down the hall on the left.”

“Thanks,” Jazz smiles and walks down the hall. 

“No!” Prowl screams. A haunting laugh chills Jazz’s spark and he runs into Prowl’s room. Prowl lies on the berth, the blue and white mech lies across from him. Jazz pulls his blaster out of his subspace. 

“Don’t move ‘con,” Jazz says, Prowl jumps and glances at Jazz.

“Jazz, what are you doing?” Prowl sits up on the berth. “Put that away.”

“Prowl, he’s a Decepticon,” Jazz continues to hold his blaster. 

“Jazz, he’s my friend,” Prowl frowns.

“He’s an evil Decepticon,” Jazz says. “You better leave my bondmate alone. Get out of here.”

“Soundwave, you don’t have to leave,” Prowl reaches out for Soundwave. Soundwave glances at Prowl before walking to Jazz. Jazz flinches when Soundwave lays a servo on his shoulder. 

“Next time do not leave your bondmate unprotected,” Soundwave walks out.

“Where the Pit have you been?” Prowl pushes Jazz to the wall.

“Prowler, sometimes . . . sometimes I have to go undercover on missions,” Jazz frowns.

“Jazz, I don’t think I can handle you disappearing randomly,” Prowl frowns. “If these Autobots of yours need you more than I do . . . perhaps you . . . you should stay with them.”

“Prowler,” Jaz frowns when Prowl walks away from him.

“Jazz,” Prowl turns toward the smaller mech. Jazz steps up to him and he wraps his arms around the silver mech. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me, Prowler.”

“I thought you left,” Prowl buries his face in Jazz’s neck.

“Why?”

“You left our sparkling at home, alone,” Prowl moves away from Jazz before punching him in the arm.

“Owe!” Jazz grabs his arm. “Ratch just put my arm back on.”

“What?”

“Some ‘cons decided to play tug of war with me and my right arm isn’t as securely fastened.”

“Are you okay?” Prowl asks looking over Jazz’s frame. 

“Yeah, arms just sore,” Jazz continues to rub his arm.

“I’m sorry,” Prowl rubs his thumb over Jazz’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry fer not telling ya,” Jazz pulls Prowl to the berth. “Right now, I really need ya.”


	14. Kidnapped

Barricade glances into Prowl’s room to see Jazz sprawled out on the berth and over Prowl’s frame. He snorts when he sees Jazz’s frame covered in scratches.

Smokescreen chirps, Barricade smirks and walks over to the sparklings crib.

“You’re coming with me, little one,” Barricade picks up the sparkling and quietly leaves the house.

Jazz stretches as he onlines, he smiles over at Prowl who is still in deep recharge. He frowns when he doesn’t hear Smokescreen’s systems running.

“Smokescreen?” Jazz jumps out of the berth. “Barricade? Prowl!”

Prowl onlines slowly and looks over at Jazz.

“What are you screaming about?”

“Our sparkling, he’s gone,” Jazz points to the sparkling’s berth.

“Maybe he went for a walk?”

“Sparklings don’t go for walks!”

“He couldn’t get far.”

“Someone kidnapped him!” 

“Jazz, who would want to kidnap our sparkling?” Prowl sits up.

“I’m third in command of the Autobots,” Jazz clenches his fists. “Who wouldn’t want to steal my sparkling? Use him as leverage?”

“Jazz, calm down,” Prowl cups Jazz’s helm. The smaller mech looks up with a pout on his face.

“Someone could be torturing him—“

“Jazz, stop,” Prowl shakes the smaller mech.

“Don’t you care?”

“Barricade took him to the crystal gardens.”

“You knew this?” Jazz frowns, Prowl nods. “You knew and didn’t tell me. I coulda had a spark attack!”

“He took Smokescreen so we could be alone.”

“Oh,” Jazz lets himself be pulled back to the berth.


	15. Surprise Visit

Prowl trails his fingers over Jazz’s frame. He could lie here for all eternity just watching Jazz recharge. A knock comes at the door and Prowl goes to answer it. Soundwave stands at the doorway.

“You need to leave Praxus,” Soundwave says.

“What?”

“The Decepticons are coming, they’re in the city state south of here, Prowl . . .” Soundwave pulls Prowl into a hug. “You need to take Smokescreen and tell Jazz to take you to the base. Megatron will level Praxus next orn.”

“What about my Carrier?” Prowl holds onto Soundwave’s sides.

“He’s already a Decepticon.”

“How did I not know this?”

“Is Smokescreen with him?” Soundwave asks, Prowl nods slightly. “He’ll make sure he’s safe.”

“Wait! I want to see my sparkling!” Prowl screams as Soundwave starts to walk away. Soundwave pulls Prowl into a kiss, doorwings shoot up. Jazz gasps as he stands in the main room. Soundwave lets go of Prowl who grabs a hold of the doorframe. 

“Soundwave!” Prowl screams.

“Prowler?” Jazz asks quietly, Prowl turns to the smaller mech.

“Our sparkling,” doorwings tremble and he falls to his knees.

“What did he say?”

“Someone named Megatron will level Praxus next orn,” Prowl holds onto Jazz’s frame.

:Meister, I am leaving Praxus. Your package is safe. Be safe.:

“We need to leave, get whatever you need,” Jazz says. :Autobots, Operation Wings is active. One orn.:

“Jazz, I need our sparkling,” Prowl collapses into Jazz.

:Agent Night, we need to confirm the package.:


	16. To trust your enemy

Prowl onlines to something crawling over his frame. He looks down. Bright blue optics meet his lava red. The sparkling trills and coos. 

“You need to keep him safe,” Prowl hears Jazz say. “He’s both of us. He’s Praxian and has a battle computer and he’s part special ops. If something should happen—“

“Just keep my sparkling safe,” Prowl hears his carrier say.

“You know I will.”

“When he’s a youngling, I’ll comm you and Dino with a location,” Barricade says. 

“Thank you,” Jazz says. A moment later Jazz comes into his room.

“Why can we not keep our sparkling?” Prowl holds Smokescreen close.

“The Autobots would send him to the youth sectors,” Jazz frowns.

“We’re handing him to the enemy?”

“There are spies within the Decepticons,” Jazz says. “Barricade will keep him safe.”

The sounds of seekers flying over come and the ground shakes. Barricade walks in.

“I need to take him now,” Barricade reaches for Smokescreen. Prowl shakes his helm and holds Smokescreen close. 

“May I hold him?” Jazz asks. Prowl reluctantly hands Smokescreen over. Jazz hands Smokescreen to Barricade and the black and white mech runs out of the house. 

“I hate you!” Prowl pushes Jazz and stomps out the room. 

“Prowl!” Jazz yells and tackles Prowl as the second wave of bombs come. The house collapses around them.


	17. Survivors

“There’s a faint signal over here!”

“There’s two! One’s almost guttering!”

“Ratchet, we need you over here!”

 

Prowl onlines on a berth, he tries moving, something was keeping him from moving. He glances to his left and sees Jazz lying on the berth.

“Jazz!” Prowl fights his restraints. “Let me go! Jazz!”

“Now calm down, we don’t need any trouble,” a new voice says. “You’ve had a sparkling in the last vorn, you don’t need to stress your systems.

“I am a lieutenant of the Praxian Enforcers, release me,” Prowl growls.

“Praxus is gone,” the medic says. Prowl stares at him. 

“My sparkling!” Prowl pulls at the restraints.

“You’re not a Decepticon are you?”

“No,” Prowl freezes. “You think . . .”

Prowl relaxes and offlines his optics. When he onlines them, they are ice blue. 

“Release me,” Prowl states calmly and emotionless.

“I need some information first—“

“I will not provide any more information,” Prowl falls into self-induced stasis.

“Frag,” Ratchet cracks the data-pad in his servos.

“Prowl doesn’t like being detained,” Jazz moves off the berth.

“How did you not react?”

“Audios were off,” Jazz undoes the restraints. “He’s fine, just let me take him to my quarters.”

“I need him to fill this out,” Ratchet hands Jazz a new data-pad. “All the survivors are required to. Where is the sparkling?”

“Unknown,” Jazz simply states and picks up Prowl’s limp form.


	18. Story

Prowl onlines on the plush berth like they had in their apartment but the walls and layout of the room is different. He climbs off the berth and quietly scopes the berthroom. Personal washracks were attached to the left of the berth, a main door is opposite of it, shelves run along the wall around the main door. He opens the door to find a small main room, couch, large screen display, stereo, elaborate Energon dispenser, table and two chairs. The stack of strategy games sit in the corner. Two smaller rooms are on either side of the short hallway. One is a small room, empty. The other is locked. 

The main door opens and Jazz walks in with a container of datapads. Prowl watches as Jazz sets the box on the table and flops down on the couch. 

Prowl backs into the berthroom. Smokescreen was gone. Jazz didn’t even care. What was wrong with this place? He lies down on the berth. Perhaps it was just a bad flux.

 

Prowl onlines to the room dark and Jazz’s systems running quietly behind him. He carefully gets up and walks out of the berthroom. He kneels at the locked door and hacks into the keypad. The door makes a small hiss and opens. Monitor line one wall of the dark room, the console pulses slowly. Prowl sits at the desk and starts opening files. A red face on the screensaver catches his optic.

The Autobots.

Prowl types in “Autobots”.

Requested search too general.

Prowl types in “Jazz + Autobots”.

Requested search too general.

Prowl types in “Prowl + Autobots”.

One result: bondmate of Jazz, third in command of Autobots, information incomplete. One sparkling with Jazz, information incomlplete.

Prowl starts typing in Smokescreen’s name before deleting it. Their server was probably tracking him right now.

Prowl types in “Prowl + Jazz + sparkling”.

One result: Sparkling: creators Jazz-sire, Prowl-carrier. Location: unknown. Status: unknown. Designation: Unknown. Colors: Unknown. Last known residence: Praxus. Presumed deactivation or prisoner of Decepticons. Rescue attempt: denied by Jazz.

Jazz didn’t want to save their sparkling?

A message pops up on the screen.

To: Jazz  
From: Optimus Prime  
Subject: Next objective

Prowl opens the message and gets prompted to provide a passphrase. He tries to Jazz’s name, his name . . . Smokescreen’s name. Nothing works. One try left. 

“Try PJS Praxus,” Prowl jumps and turns around to see Jazz leaning against the doorframe. “If yer gonna snoop, close the door.”

Prowl types in the code and the document opens.

“Why isn’t Smokescreen documented?”

“Prowl, there are Decepticon spies,” Jazz says. “If they knew who he was, he would be targeted and you can bet used against me or deactivate.”

“Jazz,” Prowl looks down, lava red optics dim.

“Yeah.”

“I feel lost.”

“What about?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Prowl looks up at Jazz. “I had a function and now I don’t. I had a sparkling and now I don’t. I had a bondmate and now . . . I’m sneaking around like some criminal is hiding in a warehouse and I’m the only responding Enforcer.” 

“Prowler . . .” Jazz slides his arms around Prowl’s shoulders and rests his chin on Prowl’s helm. “Put your information and check the box to join.”

Jazz holds out the data-pad. Prowl onlines it and stares down at it.

“It feels like I don’t know what to put. I don’t want to make a mistake.”

“Prowler, leave out our sparklin’s designation and your Carrier’s. That’s it/”

What about previous work?”

“Ya were an Enforcer.”

“Carrier saw where Enforcers were using their authority to get weapons.”

“Enforcers from all the city-states have joined Megatron,” Jazz says. “Optimus won’t question ya too much.”

“Why wouldn’t he? Does he not take serious risk as an importance?”

“Yer bonded to his third in command,” Jazz tips his helm as it looking out of the corner of his visor. 

“I could be hiding something,” Prowl reads over the data-pad. “Why do they need to know when we bonded?”

“To know if you knew more about the Autobots through me.”

“When did you put?”

“One vorn ago,” Jazz winces.

“We’ve been bonded for five!” Prowl glares up at the mech. “Primus, Jazz, what else did you lie about?”

“Uh . . . maybe you should look off mine,” Jazz pulls up his file.

“You’re from lower Polyhex?” Prowl frowns. 

“Yeah,” Jazz sighs.

“Lower Polyhex is filled with drug ad—“

“I know,” Jazz glares at Prowl. “Getaway and Skids aren’t really my creators. I was hooked on some pretty hard stuff as a sparkling. Detoxing was rough. I almost deactivated Getaway. Then I met you and you changed my addiction.”

“I’m your new addiction?” Prowl glares at the mech.

“I’m feeling some withdrawal,” Jazz trails his fingers over Prowl’s doorwings.

“Withdrawal,” Prowl snorts as he looks up at Jazz. The smaller mech climbs on his lap.


	19. New Home

Prowl onlines on the berth, looking over to Jazz’s side of the berth to find it empty. 

“Jazz?” Prowl sits up and looks around. He opens the berthroom door to find the main living quarters empty. “Jazz?” :Jazz?:

:Heya, Prowler,: Jazz says.

:Where are you?:

:We had an officer meeting,: Jazz says. :I’m in the rec room with Blaster.:

:Who is Blaster?:

:The Communication officer.:

:Oh,: Prowl opens the door to Jazz’s office in their quarters. :When will you be back?:

:Why don’t you come here?:

:I . . . I . . .: Prowl starts to say. ~I miss Smokescreen.~

~I’ll be back in a few pulses,~ Jazz smiles over the bond.

Prowl transfers Jazz’s file to a data-pad and steps out of the office as Jazz walks into the quarters.

“Prowl,” Jazz hugs the black and white mech. “Come on.”

Jazz leads Prowl to the berthroom and takes the data-pad out of his servo. 

“Let’s get this going,” Jazz lies on the berth with Prowl’s helm resting on his chest. “Your name.”

“Prowl,” Prowl smirks .

“You’re bonded’s name?”

“Jazz,” Prowl trails his fingers down Jazz’s chest.

“Origin?”

“Middle Praxus.”

“Praxus works,” Jazz rubs Prowl’s helm. “Last residence?”

“Praxus.”

“Height?”

“Three and a half units.”

“Weight?”

“Do they really need to know? Fine, two mcg and fifty cg.”

“Relatives? I would leave it blank other than sparkling and me.”

“Okay, that won’t look bad would it?”

“No, education and training?”

“Praxus Center for Sparklings, Praxus Center for Gifted Processors, Praxus Academy and Praxus Enforcers Academy.”

“Ya went ta four schools?”

“Yes,” Prowl looks up at Jazz. “All before I upgraded into my adult frame.”

“Wow,” Jazz looks at Prowl before going back to the form. “Work history.”

“Praxian Enforcers,” Prowl says and looks up when Jazz makes a noise. “What? Barricade was there.”

“Fears, yer deepest darkest fears,” Jazz trails his fingers up Prowl’s back.

“They’ve mostly come true. My sparkling is gone, you’re off with Blaster and I’m alone in these quarters.”

“Quirks, jealous.”

“Tell me I’m jealous, you’ve spent three decaorns with them.”

“I have a job.”

“You should have been with me. I’m OCD.”

“What? Really?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were just a neat freak.”

“That’s not all. I have a certain recharge sequence I have to do. I added checking on Smokescreen, he’s not here.”

“I’m sorry,” Jazz frowns. “Best qualities, organized, dependable, gets the work done, loud in—“

“They don’t need to know that,” Prowl frowns.

“We could opt for soundproof.”

“No, Jazz,” Prowl pinches a wire in Jazz’s hip.

“Worst qualities, fragging stick in the aft.”

“I’m done here,” Prowl moves to get up.

“Workaholic! Past lovers?”

“It doesn’t say that,” Prowl sits up to look at the data-pad.

“Right here,” Jazz points to the question.

“Did you hack it?” Prowl asks as he leans up.

“They might turn enemies, might be bad to work with. So got anybot?”

“No,” Prowl lays his helm back down. 

“Ya had no one before me?” Jazz looks down at Prowl.

“I upgraded the orn before I met you,” Prowl trails a finger on Jazz’s abdomen. 

“Oh . . .” Jazz sets down the data-pad.

“Did you have any? I didn’t read your file.”

“Yeah, some.”

“Any of them here?” Prowl looks up.

“Blaster, Mirage, Sideswipe, a few mechs deactivated and . . . uh . . . Orion Pax.”

“Orion Pax? Why are you hesitant of him?” Prowl moves so he’s standing over Jazz. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

“What? No, I mean, we’re friends. Nothing else.”

“Should I remind you who you’re bonded to?”

“Maybe,” Jazz smiles, leaning up hesitantly. He presses a kiss to Prowl’s lips.

“What is that?” Prowl backs away. “Soundwave did that.”

“It’s a kiss,” Jazz smiles. “I guess Praxians don’t have that custom.”

“I might like it,” Prowl smiles.

“Well, I do,” Jazz pulls Prowl down.

**Author's Note:**

> Bunny: http://tf-bunny-farm.livejournal.com/174947.html  
> It is no secret that Prowl and Jazz had a sparkling before the war began. When the Decepticons destroyed their home, Prowl and Jazz survived, but no one knows what happened to their sparkling. Rumors say he died in the attack, or was taken by the Decepticons to either become one of them or experimentation. When Bluestreak joined the Autobots, the rumors grew to say he was their missing sparkling who was rescued but whose memory was too damaged to remember them. The truth is that they hid their sparkling until he was old enough/capable enough to join them.
> 
> No one suspected him to be their sparkling. Their sparkling's name: Smokescreen.
> 
> Because he is a tactician like Prowl, but he lives like a spec ops
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.


End file.
